


Humour me

by ToxicPineapple



Series: Rantaro and Mukuro are power besties [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Character Study, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Good Friends, Implied Feelings, Introspection, Kiyo is a dumbass too, M/M, Minus the to lovers part, Mukuro is the only smart one, Mutual Pining, Non-Despair AU, Okay Not Really, Rantaro is a dumbass, Sick Character, Sick Fic, Sort Of, dumbass, everyone is happy, implied romantic feelings, ish, not explicit though, that's Unwholesome, ugh you'll understand when you read it, vague mentions of trauma, we don't talk about Sister here, well yes really, wow good tags Tox
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 06:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19289836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicPineapple/pseuds/ToxicPineapple
Summary: Belatedly, it occurs to him that they’ve never stood this close together before. It’s not a big deal, and not enough to make Korekiyo nervous. He’s not really the type of person to get nervous about these sorts of things. (Especially not with Rantaro, of all people.) Still, though, at this distance, he can see why so many people make the assumption that the adventurer burns through a lot of romantic relationships. He’s remarkably attractive, even pale and sweaty like he is now, in illness. With his hand bracing Rantaro’s lower back, Korekiyo is subject to the heat of his fever, and it’s unpleasant to be this close to a sick person- not to mention the memories it dredges up- but he doesn’t mind so much.---Rantaro is a dumbass, and a sick dumbass at that, so Korekiyo and Mukuro take care of him. (Everything ends up okay.)





	Humour me

Korekiyo blinks down at the thermometer in his hand. “Thirty nine and a half?” Normally, he’s not the type of person to be struck aghast (by anything, really; he has a remarkable deadpan) but he’s… not really sure what to say. “That is a rather high fever, Rantaro.”

 

The guy in question who should, by all accounts, be in his room resting, laughs slightly with a shake of his head. It’s unconvincing, however, because Korekiyo is not blind to the way that he winces slightly at the movement. He probably has a headache. The dining hall is empty, for the most part, though their friend Mukuro is reading a book on Rantaro’s left, but the lights in here are still quite bright. Definitely not easy on somebody with a temperature of  _ thirty nine and a half degrees celsius.  _ “I can power through it. I miss too much class already, anyway.”

 

A lazy eyebrow raise is what Korekiyo chooses to respond with, though he’s grateful that his mask prevents Rantaro from seeing the way he presses his lips together. It’s not like he’s ever been the type of person to decide what is best for anybody- especially not his friends, and Rantaro is certainly one of them- furthermore, this sort of annoying, detrimental persistence is another beauty of humanity, but Korekiyo finds himself conflicted for a number of reasons.

 

Mostly, though, because he and Rantaro are close friends. As a scientist, and as an objective bystander, Korekiyo would generally just laugh into his hand and shake his head, eager to observe the lengths Rantaro is willing to go to to avoid showing weakness. But in this case he can’t, in good conscience, maintain his usual polite indifference. It must show in his eyes, at least a little, because Rantaro shows signs of objecting, but that is the last thing Korekiyo needs, so he speaks.

 

“I would rather you got some rest and recuperated than spending more time in an environment where you could get others sick.” He speaks carefully, understanding that Rantaro wouldn’t be oblivious to this particular method of manipulation. (It doesn’t matter that the adventurer knows his techniques; they will work nonetheless.) “I, for one, have a very weak constitution and will definitely catch your bug.”

 

“He’s not lying,” Mukuro comments idly, grey eyes rolling up from the pages of her book to look between the two of them. “I could cough on him and he’d probably just die.”   
  


Korekiyo hopes she sees his irritation at the jab but says nothing. She snorts, then returns her attention to the pages.

 

“Yeah, I know.” Rantaro makes a face, like he’s frustrated that Korekiyo has backed him into a corner so early on into the argument. (Kiyo grows weary of long debates about his friends’ wellbeing; he’d rather just get to the point.) “I still feel too pent up to just lie in my bed all day.”

 

“Mm.” Korekiyo hums, closing his eyes. That, at least, is understandable, but with a high fever, there is little else that Rantaro is equipped to be doing. He reopens his eyes again and sees that his friend appears to be even more irritated at his lack of a proper response- understandably- but he’s not saying anything. Either because he’d rather Korekiyo speak first, or because he’s feeling exhausted and talking is a chore. It’s unnecessary, because he already checked with a thermometer, but Korekiyo stands up in his seat to lean across the table and touch Rantaro’s forehead with the back of his hand.

 

As far as tenderness goes, this gesture is actually fairly anti-climactic, because Korekiyo’s hand is covered in bandages. But even through the material, he can feel the warmth radiating off of the adventurer’s skin. Rantaro’s eyes close, and he almost leans into the contact, which Korekiyo chalks up to his exhaustion, because under ordinary circumstances there is absolutely no chance that the other boy would show weakness in this manner. The anthropologist is tempted to take advantage of the situation, because it’s rare that Rantaro ever lets his guard down in any capacity, but that would be cruel. There will be time for that later.

 

After a short moment that feels long with the back of his fingers ghosting over Rantaro’s skin, Korekiyo pulls back and addresses Mukuro. “Can you help me take him back to his room? He needs to rest.”

 

Rantaro opens his mouth to protest, but Mukuro beats him to it. “Yeah, got it.” She marks her page in the book and puts it down on the table, frowning at it for a minute as though she’s wary of leaving it behind. Korekiyo understands the sentiment. Eventually she just shrugs, muttering that Makoto (her boyfriend) will probably see it and keep an eye on it when he comes. As much as Kiyo doesn’t spend a lot of time observing the second years who aren’t Mukuro and her sister- they’re interesting, what can he say- he understands that Makoto is an early riser, so it shouldn’t be a problem.

 

Also, he’s pretty sure nobody is going to steal Mukuro’s book. The only person who would is Kokichi, and last time he tried stealing from Mukuro, he ended up concussed under mysterious circumstances. (Mikan Tsumiki, one of the third years, nearly had a panic attack.)

 

“Thank you.” Korekiyo hears the warmth in his voice and wonders if some of his concern is seeping through. That won’t do- with most of his friends, it wouldn’t be a problem, but Rantaro has severe pride issues (annoyingly) and would probably feel uncomfortable if he acted with tenderness. At least in front of others. Not that Mukuro is untrustworthy, but there’s a time and a place.

 

Without much else to say, Mukuro gets to her feet and Korekiyo walks around the table, offering Rantaro a hand. The adventurer acts with uncharacteristic irritation in rejecting the help and getting to his feet on his own. Kiyo doesn’t really mind, as it isn’t his place to force his help on anybody, but when Rantaro stumbles, and predictably so, he reaches out to steady him.

 

“I’m fine,” Rantaro mumbles halfheartedly, sounding as though he doesn’t believe it himself.

 

“Can I see your room key?” Mukuro asks sweetly, tilting her head slightly. It is an expression that Korekiyo is unfamiliar with, on her normally impassive features, but to his understanding, she generally acts this way around Rantaro. Lighter. They have an interesting relationship; one that Korekiyo would love to study more in depth, if given the opportunity. Though he understands that if he were to vocalise these thoughts, Mukuro would probably make fun of him, and Rantaro would certainly laugh before making one of those distanced, older-brotherly remarks he so often does.

 

“We’re not even at my room yet,” Rantaro protests, which is indeed the case, but fishes his key out of his pocket anyway and hands it to her. Idly, Korekiyo thinks that he probably understands that resisting isn’t a possibility. (And based on the way that Rantaro is using him to stand up, now, rather than working so hard to hold up his own weight, Korekiyo is certain that he’s given in.)

 

Mukuro thanks him, somewhat smugly, but Korekiyo holds his silence. He prefers it like this, anyway, and it’s probably easier on Rantaro if he just doesn’t say anything about it. The three of them exit the dining hall without a word shared between them, and while walking, Kiyo’s gaze flickers between the hallway- so as not to crash- and Rantaro, whose expression is impassive, but strained. He’s got a nice tan built up from time spent in the sun, but at the moment, due to illness, his skin is paler than usual. Korekiyo hadn’t noticed it before, but he’s got a scattering of pale freckles dotting his nose and cheeks. They’re more obvious right now, and at this proximity.

 

Belatedly, it occurs to him that they’ve never stood this close together before. It’s not a big deal, and not enough to make Korekiyo nervous. He’s not really the type of person to get nervous about these sorts of things. (Especially not with Rantaro, of all people.) Still, though, at this distance, he can see why so many people make the assumption that the adventurer burns through a lot of romantic relationships. He’s remarkably attractive, even pale and sweaty like he is now, in illness. With his hand bracing Rantaro’s lower back, Korekiyo is subject to the heat of his fever, and it’s unpleasant to be this close to a sick person- not to mention the memories it dredges up- but he doesn’t mind so much.

 

Of course, Korekiyo himself is more the type of person to “play the field”, as Mukuro called it- he wants to experience the beauty of humanity in all forms, after all- so he can tell that Rantaro isn’t that type of person. He’s probably never gotten past second base. He’s too emotionally inept for that kind of a relationship; he’d get broken up with before things could go that far. Korekiyo wonders loosely what it would be like to be in a relationship with somebody so emotionally constipated. Probably stressful, but he can’t say that he’s any better.

 

“Hey, take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Rantaro jokes, and Korekiyo realises he was staring. He blinks, unembarrassed, and it seems that the adventurer gets a little flustered at his unabashed expression, but it only shows because he’s sick. “Thinking about anything important?”

 

He considers lying, but then decides against it, because there’s no reason to be dishonest. “Yes, actually. You.” Korekiyo looks away when he says it. Not out of embarrassment, or regret, but simply because they’ve just arrived at Rantaro’s dorm. (He doesn’t miss the way the adventurer tenses under his hand, however.)

 

“Get a room…” Mukuro grumbles as she unlocks Rantaro’s door and slips inside. A moment later the light is turned on, and she disappears into the bathroom. Korekiyo doesn’t know too much about treating illnesses, at least of this variety (he knows plenty about the more exotic bugs, so to speak) so he’s grateful for the way that Mukuro moves around the room with the air of a person who is doing what they’ve done many times before. She has an excellent constitution, to Korekiyo’s understanding, so she probably doesn’t know much about taking care of herself- having never been injured before- but she also has a reckless, masochistic younger sister, so that may be a part of it.

 

Korekiyo decides not to think about sisters at this moment.

 

He allows Rantaro to walk into the room himself, but follows him inside and turns around to close the door firmly and lock it, just in case. That won’t stop Kokichi, if the supreme leader decides to come and cause trouble, but it would slow him down enough, at least, for Mukuro to be at the door and ready to give him another concussion. (Korekiyo knows they’re violent thoughts but Kokichi is insufferable, and the anthropologist has a lot of patience.) The quiet creaking of the bedsprings behind him informs him that Rantaro has sat down on the bed, but he doesn’t look in that direction.

 

Instead, he steps over to the closet and opens it up, looking at the top shelf for blankets. Predictably, the closet is rather barren, aside from a couple suitcases on the floor, because Rantaro is rarely here. Maybe that’s part of the reason why he got sick. A lot of heat will help his fever, though. Korekiyo resolves to check the thermostat next, but before that, he grabs a couple blankets and shuts the closet door with his elbow as he moves across the room to where Mukuro is nudging Rantaro to lie down. She’s got a wet rag in her hand, and a couple dry ones folded on the bedside table. They probably don’t do Rantaro any good if he’s in here alone, because he won’t exactly be getting up to change them, but that’s none of Korekiyo’s concern for the moment.

 

“You’re probably already hot, but please humour me.” Korekiyo understands that from somebody else, those words might be said more imploringly, but he merely turns his calm gaze onto Rantaro as he says it, and the adventurer nods, pulling up his comforter and patting the top of it, as though to tell Korekiyo to just put them down. So he does. “You came to breakfast. Are you hungry? I can request that Kirumi make you some soup.”

 

With a shake of his head, Rantaro closes his eyes, mumbling, “Just thirsty.” Before Korekiyo can act upon the words, however, Mukuro calls out that she’s got it and disappears into the bathroom once more, but not before placing the rag on Rantaro’s forehead. Korekiyo moves forward and gently adjusts the thing, noting plainly that it’s an ugly rag. A dirtied white colour. Though perhaps it only looks like that because it’s wet. Touching it dampens his bandages, but no matter. There are worse things.

 

“Are you cold? Warm? I can adjust the thermostat, if you’re feeling either.” He offers, and curses the little bit of uncertainty for slipping into his voice. It’s all too familiar, this, and even when Rantaro cracks open an eye, smiling wryly, Korekiyo is certain that he is more vulnerable than he would like to be. “If there’s anything you need-”

 

“Stay with me?” Rantaro suggests gently, and Korekiyo can’t help but let his eyes widen very slightly. “I know you don’t like to miss classes, but I…” his voice is much quieter when he continues. “Don’t… really want to be alone right now.”

 

Swallowing hard and hoping that Rantaro can’t tell he’s taken off guard, Korekiyo nods without thinking about it. “I don’t mind.” He murmurs, wondering if he can be heard through his mask. (Rantaro’s smile widens so presumably he can.) Before anything else can be said, Mukuro reemerges, a cup in hand. Vaguely, Korekiyo wonders where she got it- if it was just lying around in the bathroom, or if she carries around a cup with her at all times. Perhaps he will ask later. It’s worth wondering about. But at the moment, he just watches her put the cup on Rantaro’s bedside table and fix his blankets with an odd tenderness before straightening up.

 

“Thermostat, right?” She asks without being prompted, and Korekiyo doesn’t get a chance to respond before she’s crossed the room and stopped next to it. “Mm… bit chilly. I’ll turn it up, but if you get hot, Korekiyo, you should turn it down.” Grey meets gold when they make eye contact, and Korekiyo feels his lips quirk into a smile underneath his mask because he knows what she’s going to say. “You wear way too much clothing. It’s a wonder that you’re not at thirty nine and a half degrees all the time.”

 

“To be fair,” Korekiyo offers. “I am used to wearing this much clothing. I would get cold, otherwise.”

 

“I mean, yes, but you didn’t have to go and use logic like that.” Mukuro rolls her eyes, but then looks at Rantaro as she unlocks the door. “Rest, yeah? Don’t stay up talking about stupid things, like other cultures, or traveling, or whatever.”

 

“You’re a hypocrite,” Rantaro says without missing a beat.

 

“Suffer.” Mukuro responds promptly, but then allows a smile, looking back at Korekiyo. “Don’t catch his illness. I’ll lock the door behind me.”

 

Korekiyo waves her off, and she disappears behind the door. It falls shut with a soft click, and he double checks, but it is indeed locked. Though he’s not fond of the armchairs in all the rooms, he drags one over to Rantaro’s bedside and sits down in it, lacing his fingers together in his lap to keep an eye on Rantaro while he rests. Most of this will just be him watching the adventurer sleep, but it’s alright. There are worse ways that Korekiyo could spend his time.

 

(He eventually falls asleep, watching Rantaro’s chest rise and fall in the calming way that it does, and when he wakes up, the adventurer is grinning at him, and he’s caught his illness. Go figure.)

**Author's Note:**

> me: how many times am I going to use the word dumbass to describe Amaguji  
> me also: yes
> 
> anyway hi I really like this pairing (hence the fact that it is,,,,, in the tags,,,,,,,, of The Best Lies,,,,,,,,,,,) but I don't write it a lot (I haven't gotten to it in TBL yet sorry)
> 
> these dumbasses they're GAy just jabfdhbf
> 
> Mukuro is so tired, guys, please somebody save her
> 
> why all the Rantaro-Mukuro friendship stuff coming out lately???? fuck you that's why I write what I want. am I ever gonna put out the next Saimami ficlet? I mean yes but also no because djsbafhjbdsfh I'm obsessed with this new AU now
> 
> maybe next time Kiyo will be the dumbass
> 
> (spoilers: they're both dumbasses)
> 
> anyway bye hope u enjoyed comments are nifty


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